


Handle With Care

by Huzuzu470



Series: the dad-au [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Homophobic Language, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Language, Parenthood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:07:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24079486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huzuzu470/pseuds/Huzuzu470
Summary: They’ve been living together for a few years when it finally comes up.“Do you think we’d make good parents?” Erwin asks him. Levi almost spits out his coffee.
Relationships: Levi/Erwin Smith
Series: the dad-au [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1750756
Comments: 16
Kudos: 137





	Handle With Care

They’ve been living together for a few years when it finally comes up.

“Do you think we’d make good parents?” Erwin asks him. Levi almost spits out his coffee.

It’s a sweet, lazy sunday morning. Erwin is sitting across the room from him, in a rocking chair he made himself that sits by the window, staring at his laptop screen as he scrolls past various profiles for adoptable children. Levi is eating peanut butter banana toast. Levi hates peanut butter banana toast. Erwin forgets and makes it for him anyways, sometimes.

“There's some good schools around here,” Erwin continues. “and a park we could go to. We have the space for a kid.”

“You’re crazy,” Levi mutters. It’s a nonanswer, and he knows it.

Levi _wants_ kids, at least he thinks he does. He's just -- they’re _both_ \-- busy. He’s on call at the hospital this week in fact, pager sitting on the dining room table. And Erwin, well, Erwin’s whole thing kind of speaks for itself.

Levi wouldn't quite qualify it as _irresponsible,_ per se. He just -- acts like a kid himself, sometimes. Frankly, he likes it -- more than likes it if he’s willing to put up with his peanut butter banana toast. He's not complaining about his companionship, but even with his quiet, slightly gruff affection for Erwin, that he’s had more than a decade accumulate, he wonders about whether or not he has the maturity to handle another human.

And even if he does, Erwin’s not exactly twiddling his thumbs either, running his own carpentry business and volunteer firefighting whenever he _can_ manage to make time, and -- again, it’s not _supposed_ to be a complaint, though sometimes he feels like he makes it sound like one. He loves Erwin, loves that he actually gives enough of a shit to _do_ something. It’s just -- _kids_. Levi doesn’t think he could ever really make a good father himself, regardless of Erwin's capabilities, for a multitude of reasons. 

Something in his own gut twitches uncomfortably at the thought.

“I'd be a good dad,” Erwin says.

Levi snorts. “Remember that time eleven, -- no, twelve -- years ago, at that concert we went to together, when you got piss drunk and tried to crowdsurf?” he asks. “A bit before we started dating.”

“A _great_ dad,” Erwin corrects, beaming across the room.

“The crowd was too thin,” Levi deadpans, turning his page.

Erwin shrugs. “Even the best of us can misjudge things.”

Levi breathes in slowly, the sigh hissing back out through his teeth. He can hear Erwin chuckle across the room to himself, and changes the subject. “The Italian basil you keep in the kitchen died again, by the way.” 

“Do you want me to pick up a new one at the supermarket while I’m out?”

“You used it more than me for cooking,” Levi shrugs. Sometimes, he wonders why Erwin even bothers with the extra mile. The difference between fresh and dried basil isn’t really significant enough to Levi to be worth the extra price, but it makes him happy, so they’ve never really fought over it. “I’m just saying, you can’t pick up kids at the supermarket, and they probably need more than water every other day.”

“I know that.” There's a slight twinge of hurt to Erwin's voice as he says it, almost hidden by his tone. Almost.

Another beat passes, and his pager goes off loudly in the other room. Levi sighs, slamming his book closed.

“Fuck it.” He stands up. “Can’t even read a fucking book about a fucking _dog_ \--” he grumbles under his breath, then turns to look at Erwin, arms crossed tight over his chest as Erwin blinks back. 

“All right. When I’m done on the phone with the resident, show me the stupid website,” he says, and storms off to find a house phone. It’s not like he’s gonna end up agreeing to it, he’s just indulging his giant golden-retriever of a husband. 

He catches a glimpse of Erwin beaming up at him from the chair as he leaves. 

* * *

Setting themselves up with an agency is, Levi finds out, the most excruciating and painstaking experience in the whole world.

First of all, there’s more _paperwork_ than anything else, stacks and stacks of it in fact. And if Levi has to smile and wave and nod his head at one more agent, he’s gonna lose it. The constant pressing into their lives, the nagging, the questions about what is ultimately none of their business. He gets _why_ , but it still drives him crazy. Obviously they’re not going to hand a kid to anyone who asks, but does it _really_ matter that their fence is four and a half feet rather than five? Levi’s more curious what person lets a kid out into the backyard unsupervised before they’re house-broken. That _is_ the right word for it, right?

“No,” Erwin groans into his hands. He’s drowning in a small ocean of filing and forms and applications. “House-broken is _decidedly_ not the right word, Levi.”

“I’m just saying!” He throws his hands into the air dramatically, stomping his way around the table kitchen table to stand over Erwin’s shoulder. “Look!” he says, plucking a hair off his head, and Erwin flinches away with a jump. “It’s gotten lighter!”

Erwin rolls his eyes. “Don’t pull my hair out in surprise attacks, and I might not go grey so fast.” He rubs his temples. “If we want a kid, we pretty much have to go through the system.”

And -- well, he’s right, Levi supposes. He doesn’t like it, but unless they were to get a surrogate, this is their only option. 

It was a discussion, at one point, asking a friend like Hanji or Nanaba to carry for them, but it’s a _huge_ favour for one thing, that can end up totally ruining someone’s body, and breeds the complication of explaining the weird genetic tree to pretty much anyone who meets the kid. Erwin wasn’t so opposed to the idea, after all, he said himself that Nanaba basically looks like a feminized version of himself. But Levi, on the other hand, has no lookalike, so it would probably be his sperm they used and -- again, something about the concept of his own genetic offspring just rubs him completely the wrong way. Maybe, he'd said, but only if it were Erwin’s, and the conversation had pretty much fallen flat after that. 

So surrogacy has been mostly ruled out in favour of paperwork instead. Levi sighs. If either of them had understood how complex this would be, he doubts that the ‘kid’ conversation would have ever come up.

“This is all stupid,” he grumbles, resting his cheek on Erwin’s shoulder. “This is so dumb.”

“I know,” Erwin says, reaching a hand back to pat him.

“This sucks.”

“I know.”

There’s a long silence between them, where the only sound is the _scrit-scrat_ of Erwin’s pencil on the paper, as he fills what is probably the hundredth form. There’s another fill in the blank for how tall the fence in the yard is, and Levi wants to tear out his hair.

He points at the open box accusingly, jabbing the paper, and Erwin sighs. ”I’m just gonna say the fence is five feet, and if anyone asks, we rounded up.”

“Deal,” Levi agrees.

* * *

Out of everything so far, decorating the kid's room is arguably the most fun. They make a whole day of it, inviting over a few friends to help them finish up, ordering pizza and ultimately playing music too loudly, the chatter between the three couples loud enough underneath it.

The painting itself is easy enough, though Hanji insists that for it to be a proper kids room, it just _has_ to have a scaled star chart painted onto the ceiling. They manage to talk her down to a few key constellations, Cygnus and Draco staring down at them amongst a few others by the time she’s done.

“You’re _lucky,”_ Nanaba comments. “At least you’re fully prepared for a kid long before you get it this way. Mike and I--” she says, turning to glance at him. Levi’s a little envious of the fact they’ve somehow managed to keep their relationship fresh and consistently sweet since they first got together all the way back in high-school. He’s pretty sure he’s never so much as seen one glare at the other. “--we were caught a little off-guard, as you all know,” she laughs.

Mike snorts. “You were in your second trimester before you even noticed you hadn’t had your period in a while,” he jokes. It’s not that far off either; Nanaba hadn’t realized she was pregnant till two and a half months in, if Levi remembers correctly. The worst part of it had been at a dinner party that one of the other cardiologists had hosted, where someone had congratulated her and asked how far along she was. Nanaba had gaped at him, open-mouthed, before telling him she wasn’t pregnant. 

She took the test the next day, and, after a few sonograms, announced the good news to the department before taking her maternity leave less than a month later.

“It’d be nice to have a baby dropped on us too, at this point,” Erwin jokes. “It’s been long enough we could probably have grown our own, provided the right parts.”

“Trust me,” Nanaba says, “you wouldn’t want the parts. Especially knowing that you can bleed over a month after the baby is -- you know, out.”

Levi believes her, that’s for sure. His nose wrinkles at the thought of the kind of mess that must make.

“Don’t even get me started on watching her give birth,” Mike adds, and Hanji fakes a retching sound.

“Can we stop talking about babies for like, twelve seconds? Besides,” she says, “babies get snatched up. It’s better to aim for like, a six year old, or something.”

“You all suck at children things,” Levi grumbles. “I’m gonna go check on Moblit.”

He’s frankly had enough of baby talk anyways, so he walks out into the living room where Moblit is sitting by himself, a cup of coffee in his hands. He’s staring out the window, and he jumps when Levi touches his shoulder.

“Hey, what’s up?” he asks, setting the cup down. “You guys done in there?”

“Not yet,” Levi admits, “but it’s a bit of a “too many chefs” situation already, so I’m taking a break. You need anything?”

“Nah,” Moblit grins. “I’m chilling fine over here,” he says, patting his chair.

Levi looks at him, and sighs. Moblit and Hanji have two kids together at this point. He’s been so busy growing into his own skin the last few years, he’s hardly been able to notice as all his friends grew up too. Hanji’s been close to him since undergrad, and yet it still feels so strange to think that she’s had multiple children for years now, one and four respectively.

“How’d you get used to it?” he asks. “With -- well, everything.”

Moblit laughs, reading straight through the question. “You’ll make a good dad, Levi. A real badass one, I’d bet, too.” He taps the spokes of the wheels on his chair again, and says, “Look, I know it might not be super reassuring, but I can hardly walk more than ten feet at a time, and I do just fine. You’ll be alright.”

“I feel like we’re too old,” Levi grumbles. He’s 37, and -- god, Erwin’s turning 40 in a month or two. Already it feels as though they’re better suited to be grandparents. “I feel like I’m not responsible enough, like my _own_ shitty childhood might play into it, I just --”

“You’ll be _alright,_ ” Moblit repeats, putting a hand on his knee. It’s supposed to be comforting, but it’s more grating on his nerves that Moblit just seems to _know_ what he’s supposed to say to comfort someone or calm them down, and Levi just feels -- mostly like a failure. He wants to believe Moblit’s telling the truth _._ He’d like to believe it.

He shrugs. He supposes, eventually, he will. “I guess. I’m just -- anxious about it.”

“Come on,” Moblit says, turning himself around. “Let’s go see how we can help, hopefully with something that _isn’t_ painting.”

Levi sighs, and turns to follow him. 

* * *

They’re both tired and stressed and just about _done_ with the whole thing, when they finally hear back from the government about the internal application they had filed. Every single one of the privatized ones had come back rejected.

Erwin had wanted to be all noble and apply to their “mixed” field of applicants; it’s a process to go through a series of legal procedures that ends with kids, (typically siblings, though Levi doesn’t know how he feels about that just yet,) who have been taken away from their parents for various reasons. Levi had grumbled -- something. He can’t really remember what he’d grumbled at that one in particular. He feels like he’s grumbling a lot these days.

And, surprisingly, they’d passed preliminary qualifications. 

He’d picked up Levi and spun him around on the sidewalk when they got the envelope, not even bothering to go inside to open it, all shouting and giddy celebration until Levi had thumped him on the back and said of course, he was also happy, but could Erwin please put him down before he yakked in their driveway?

There’d been a series of psychosocial tests that both he and Erwin had had to take. They both passed, which doesn’t surprise him, but it does reassure him a little bit more than he’d like to admit. Another agent comes by, this time though, a government worker, and there’d been none of the head nodding or pleasantries like they’d had to engage in with the private agencies. She’d just asked a few questions, walked a circle around their house, and left. Levi is eternally grateful for it.

“How long have you been planning to adopt for?” she asks them, standing in the short hallway between the kitchen and living room. She’s finished her walk through, and she's not big or tall or particularly mean looking, but her aura is one of _do not fuck with me._ He can respect that.

“Around six months, actively, now.” Erwin’s voice is pleasant, but there’s a deep-seeded layer of anxiety in it. “We tried to apply through privatized agencies, at first, but no luck.”

“Not actively, Mr. Smith,” she clarifies. “How long have you been _planning_ for?”

“Er,” Erwin stalls, his gaze flickering to Levi in a plea for help.

Levi rolls his eyes. “We first talked about it around a year ago,” he clarifies. “I know we might be on the older side of things, --” he starts, preparing himself for the fall before it even comes --

“On the contrary, Mr. Ackerman, I’d like to congratulate you.” Her stoic expression comes away, just a little, as she smiles at them. “Your residence absolutely qualifies for adoption, and I’m quite pleased to tell you that your year long search may well have come to an end.”

She looks back at Erwin, who is smiling so wide, Levi almost classifies it as creepy, his eyes glossy with pride. “If you’d both come with me back to the living room, I’d like to discuss a time and date where you could meet with the children.”

Erwin trots after her, springing like a lamb, and Levi makes to follow as well, before the full face value of the word she had used hits him.

“Children?” he says, to the empty hallway.

He blinks twice, thinking back to his previous discussions with Erwin about the mixed applications, and it dawns on him. 

Kids. It had been _plural_.

“ _Erwin!_ ” he shouts after them, stalking down the hall.

* * *

It’s half an hour after the agent has left, and they’re still arguing in the kitchen about it.

“ _Kids,”_ Levi repeats. Erwin shrugs, chewing his way through a mouthful of crackers and cheese. The fact he’s decided that _now_ is an opportune moment for a snack break is _really_ only pissing Levi off more.

“I told you when we first filed,” he says, spraying a fine mist of crumbs at Levi as he does. “I didn’t like, _request_ to be set up with a group of siblings, and we don’t have to take all of them. It’s just recommended so that they don’t end up far apart in the long run.”

Levi throws his hands up. “Of _course_ we have to take all of them now!”

Erwin’s eyebrow twitches up. “I thought you said --”

Levi cuts him off. “All of them, or none. End of story.” He shakes his head and walks back across the room, leaning on the counter and folding his arms together. “I’m not gonna be that guy who breaks up a group of _orphans,_ for fuck's sake.”

“Okay,” Erwin says. He puts down the box of crackers on the counter, right next to the cheese and the knife he’d been using, inching his way towards Levi. He tries to put an arm around him. Levi shrugs it off.

“Not now.”

Erwin’s forehead furrows together. “...Okay,” he repeats, a little hurt. “Just -- I’m here for you. I thought you knew that this might happen.” 

There’s a pause, too long to be anything except awkward and strained, and Levi shifts his weight, his arms fluttering slightly as he does. “It’s okay. I’m okay. I’m just happy we _got_ the placement at all,” he admits, trying to change the subject.

“Sorry if this makes me a dick.”

“Just,” Levi grimaces, “let’s meet the stupid little goblins and decide then, alright?” He doesn’t wait for an answer before he stalks out of the kitchen and to their bedroom, slamming the door behind him. 

Erwin crawls into bed next to him half an hour later, mouth all sorry and hopeful, and, Levi, in an act of mercy, doesn’t make him sleep on the couch.

* * *

The agent is back again on Saturday, this time with two children and another agent in tow. The file they'd gotten in the mail a few days before had said the older is 8, the middle 5, and the youngest, only 5 months. But, strangely, there’s no sign that either of the adults is carrying a baby, and Levi is confused.

“Eren, Mikasa,” she says, nudging them forwards. “These are Mr. Smith and Mr. Ackerman.”

The oldest child is standing in front of his little sister defensively, his eyes wide and unafraid as he glares back at them, nose wrinkled into a snarl. The younger of the two has a bundle of clothing clutched to her chest protectively. Levi isn’t sure what to make of it.

Unsurprisingly, Erwin makes the first move. 

“Hey.” He crouches down to eye level with the little boy, extending his right hand. “I’m Erwin. What’s your name?” His voice is the perfect mix of soft and understanding, and Levi is kicking himself for how awkward and distant and just _fucking awful_ he is at this -- and yet his knees are locked in place, arms crossed sternly over his chest, hyperaware each time a set of eyes crosses his figure. Erwin had said he’d probably loosen up around the kids, and yet here they were, and he’s still this -- this _weird_ old man who doesn’t _know_ \--

“Eren,” the little kid spits back at him, interrupting Levi's train of thought. “This is Mikasa.” He looks like he’s having a hard time picking an emotion to settle on, especially since the tone of his voice was probably chosen long before they walked up the steps to their house. Now, though, with Erwin crouched in front of him, the aggressivity of it probably feels a lot stranger in the wake of such a nice hello, the kid’s face flushed and confused. He’s still _trying_ to lean into angry, though it doesn’t seem to quite be working.

“Hi Mikasa,” Erwin smiles again, and the little girl comes out slightly from behind her brother. “Do you folks want to come inside?” he asks the kids, and then glances up at the adults to make sure it was alright.

“Sounds good to me,” the first agent says. Her face cracks once again into the slightest smile.

They tumble through the door behind them, and Eren immediately climbs up onto the big leather couch in their living room. Mikasa follows him, more gingerly, neither one bothering to take off their shoes before settling into the cushions. Levi winces. The agent stands by the doorway while her coworker goes to sit with the kids, and Levi can hear him playing with them, and it’s really getting old how literally _everyone_ seems to be better at this than he is.

“So," Erwin says, trying to sound as casual as one can about it. “What happened to the third one?”

The agent looks conflicted for a moment, her face shifting guiltily as Levi watches. 

"We hadn't really gotten a good opportunity to explain this to you before," she starts, but she trails off. Her mouth moves silently for a moment, trying to form the right words, before she places her fingers over her lips and looks down in thought. "To put it simply. we weren't sure you'd still be interested, seeing as these two would probably get along fine if we separated them, but there was --" she trails off, eyes darting to the kids before settling back on them. “ -- an incident. Part of why they were taken away from their parents.” 

Something deep in Levi’s gut decides this is the moment he’s going to open his mouth and say something.

“Erwin,” he says, glancing over. The way she was talking about it all made it feel... unsettling, but he’d already promised himself that he wasn’t going to break up a family in trying to build his own. “We talked about this, right?”

Erwin nods, seemingly understanding. “Please,” he says, turning back to her, “I don’t mean to be rude by any stretch, but could we get to see him, before assuming we’d opt out?”

There's a tense silence where she seems to grit her teeth and glance back at her partner. She shrugs, and he bends over, tapping Mikasa on the shoulder. She seems to clutch the bundle closer to her chest, and that’s when Levi realizes --

“Shit," he mutters. "She’s holding him.” His jaw falls open in surprise. How could a 5 month old be tiny enough for a kindergartener to carry?

He's wrapped up in a soft, beige blanket, as though he were still a newborn, and pried out of Mikasa’s hands. Both her and Eren leap off the couch and follow as he’s handed over gently to Erwin by the male agent, not a word spoken as Erwin pulls back the blanket carefully, nor as Levi looks over his shoulder. 

"This is Armin," the agent says, kneading her hands together. 

An angry red scar gashes his face, stopping at the top left corner of his mouth. Most of his nose, which is melted slightly back into his skull, and the entirety of his left cheek is covered by it. Levi's lips curl into an unpleasant frown and Erwin's face is still unreadable. It looks like a burn, stopping just over where his eyebrow should be, but no hair grows through. His left hand is missing its thumb, too, the scar trailing down his arm and under the sleeve of his jumper.

"You have to understand," she begins quickly, "we’re still hoping you'll take all three of them, but we can also understand if future payments for surgery -- or the responsibilities tied to three children in the first place -- are too much."

"No, we’ll.." Erwin bleats hollowly. He doesn’t seem to know how to process his sentence. "I, well, we’ll... Levi?" he asks, glancing at him for help.

Levi shrugs. "We’ll need to talk a bit."

She nods slightly, trying to take the other two by the arm to lead them away, and Eren screams so suddenly Erwin almost drops the baby, the noise absolutely _feral_.

“You _can’t_ take Armin away from us and make us live here with _you!”_ he spits. “You _can’t!”_ For a little kid, his voice carries amazingly well. 

Levi crouches down next to him, and Eren’s screams quiet down to a murmuring whine, his voice muffled as he anxiously tucks his chin into the neck of his shirt. His bright green eyes stare back into Levi’s own, defiant. 

“I won’t _let_ you.”

“Oi.” Levi places a hand on Eren’s head. “I need you to go sit on the couch with this very nice lady for five minutes, okay? There’s no reason for you to be afraid of that, right now.”

Amazingly, to Levi's own surprise, Eren actually goes silent for a second, as though he understands. He catches himself in awe. Maybe he wasn’t so shit at this, after all. He straightens back up and turns to say something to Erwin --

And not even halfway through opening his mouth, Eren is screaming again, kicking and clawing at his legs, tears streaming from his eyes, the agent taking him by the arm and apologizing. 

“They’re usually not so easily upset,” she says, rubbing her temples. “We’ll be over here, after you’ve discussed.” She drags Eren, thrashing dangerously, away from them, Mikasa following, and the three of them retreat to the corner of the room where they can watch without intruding, alongside the male service worker. 

Levi leans against the wall. Erwin is still holding Armin, facing away from him, bouncing almost imperceivably as he walks in a small circle around the entrance. He's watching his small hands wander lightly across the fabric of the blanket, clenching it into tiny bunches. It's unlike Erwin to be quiet after he’d been so _excited,_ just a minute ago, but Levi knows better than to comment anything too extensive.

“Well?” he asks, softly.

Erwin doesn't answer. He reaches out with a finger at the bundle, and the tiny hand moves from the blanket to grip it, barely managing to wrap its way around. Levi can't see much until Erwin turns back to face him, crouches slightly so he can see over the edge of the fabric. 

"Look,” he says, voice hushed as Levi draws closer. “He’s opened his eyes."

And it’s true, after brushing a few wispy blonde strands of hair out of the way, Levi can see them clearly, bright blue and inquisitive at the strange men who were peering at him. Instead of crying, he gurgles and reaches out to try and grab at Levi's nose, and he has to force himself not to jerk his head back, because the hand is worryingly wet with baby spit. A second passes, and Armin grasps at his cheeks instead now, baby hands cupping his face curiously. The boney ridge where his thumb used to be juts into Levi's skin, but otherwise, they’re tiny and soft and _disturbingly_ damp, and Levi -- Levi’s oddly charmed by the whole encounter. 

"Isn't he just the cutest thing ever?" Erwin asks, grinning. Levi grunts and suppresses a smile, trying to wipe at his face without disturbing the baby's hands. In the background, Eren screams.

"Alright,” Levi sighs dramatically, “you can keep him, you oversized sheepdog." 

"Don't even pretend you hadn’t already decided to," Erwin says, kissing his forehead.

* * *

Only about a week has passed since they signed the papers for the three-month trial phase before official adoption, and Mike and Hanji have already planned out a visit, their respective spouses choosing to stay at home to avoid any adjustment shock. 

" _Oh_ , he’s so _cute!"_ Hanji squeals in delight, picking Armin out of Levi’s arms and holding him over her head. Armin chooses this to be the most appropriate moment to spit up on her shirt, but it doesn't seem to bother her much, if at all. She pretty much ignores it, actually, until Levi hands her a towel, still cooing over him as she dabs the mess off her collar.

Eren stood curiously behind Erwin’s legs, watching carefully, and then walks right up to her to pull at the hem of her shirt, interrupting the scene. “S’cuze me,” he mumbles, glancing at Mike, his gaze slowly shifting back to her. “Who’re you?”

Hanji looks down, seemingly noticing him for the first time, and she only gets more delighted at the prospect of a second tiny human.

She bounces Armin against her hip, and then turns to Mike. “Do you mind taking him for a second?” Mike nods, accepting the bundle gently, and she crouches down to speak to Eren. 

“I’m Hanji. Your dad Levi and I have been friends for a real long time,” she says. “We’re so excited to finally get to meet you.” 

Eren squints at her. “He’s not my dad,” and there’s a pang in Levi’s chest. To be fair, he hadn’t expected a perfect adjustment, but… _ow._

Hanji winces as well, a little taken aback, and says, “Right. Well, Eren,” she pauses, stretching out her hand, “I know everything is new and scary, but we’re here to be your friends. Would you like that?” she asks. Eren hesitates before nodding slightly, his palm wrapping around three of her fingers as a peace offering. Levi is too busy watching Mike and Armin to really notice.

Armin is so small that he fits right into his hands, and -- _god_ , Levi had _known_ how small he was, but was he really that _tiny?_ It’s a little startling, now that he really gets to see him in someone else’s arms. When Levi holds him, the contrast feels less stark, and he’s mostly accustomed to the fact that Erwin is huge compared to anyone, but... seeing Mike with him really re-enforces how fragile their youngest actually is _._

The agent had briefed him on their family history while Erwin had played with the other two in the backyard, when they had first been dropped off; their biological mom had been using, (she hadn’t been allowed to say exactly what, but it was implied to be -- well, pretty bad,) and Eren, Mikasa, and Armin had all been born out of different relationships she had had over the years, mostly having to take care of each other. There’s no real worry about the bio-mom trying to come after them for custody, since she’d been served a three-year sentence for drug possession and child neglect. Four months ago, the kids had all been removed after an accident that had left an almost newborn Armin with half his face and parts of his chest disfigured, and had been living with a pretty good set of foster parents since. She’d muttered something about him already being premature, something about how _irresponsible_ it all was, and explained that, while there hadn’t been any detectable complications related to drug usage during his gestation, he was likely to be quite small and slender throughout the rest of his life.

Not that it was stopping him from being a pretty regular baby, if you put all that to the side, Levi thinks. Armin grabs at everything and anything that he can, and tries to shove it in his mouth, including Mike’s hair, his beard, his ears, babbling happily as he tugs on them. Mike, on the other hand, Levi notes, has the patience of a saint. 

“Shit,” Levi murmurs to Hanji as she stands up again, careful to lower his voice beyond earshot of the other two kids. “You’re both so… well-adjusted to all this.” He’s a little jealous of how easily the kids already trust Erwin, a little jealous of how easily Mike seems to dismiss the grossness of the tiny creature in his arms, lifting him into the air and sniffing, a little _miffed_ at how defiantly Eren had reacted to him being called his dad. 

"He's due for a change," Mike says, and Hanji laughs.

“You’ll get used to it, too,” she reassures Levi. “Just give yourself a little more time. No one is perfect right from the start.”

“Erwin seems pretty perfect at it,” he grumbles, and she elbows him sharply in the ribs. “Ow! What the --?” and he glances at Eren instinctively, still peering up at them, and opts for slightly different words, “-- what the heck, Hanji?”

“Don’t say things like that,” she hisses through her teeth. She’s smiling, but the tone doesn’t quite line up with the facial expression. “You need to work _with_ him, not against. You’re a team now. Don’t undermine each other.”

He stares back at her, shocked, and mutters a disgruntled, “...I wasn’t trying to.”

Erwin steps forwards, offering to take back the baby, and Mike shakes his head. “It’s fine. Where’s his change room?”

“We set up the crib and changing set in our room,” Erwin explains, eyes flickering over Levi and Hanji. He can tell he’s missed something, but he doesn’t ask. “Eren and Mikasa are sharing, for now.”

Mike nods. “I’ll be back in five,” he says, and walks down the hall to the bedroom.

Erwin looks back at Hanji, and exhales softly, a _whoosh_ of air expelled from his lungs. “Nothing ever gets to that guy, huh,” he says, and then notices that Eren’s still tugging on her pant legs, trying to get her attention. 

“Zoe, you’ve got a fan,” he comments, smiling, and she looks down. Eren’s face screws up into what Levi can only interpret as stubborn courage as they meet eyes. 

“Hello again, you,” she says cheerily. “What’s up?”

Eren swallows, looks up at Hanji carefully, his eyes wide, and says, “Do you wanna play with us?”

Hanji glances back up at Levi for approval, and he nods. “Sure,” she says. “What do you wanna do?”

There’s a moment where Eren doesn’t answer, and then breaks out into a huge grin as he grabs Zoe’s hand and leads her into the kitchen and out the back door, where Mikasa is already bouncing on the trampoline outside. Erwin chases after them, and Levi watches, leaning against the doorframe to the hall, the sinking feeling in his stomach deepening.

Mike comes back into the kitchen with Armin, who is now only wearing a diaper instead of the jumper he'd had before. He’s bouncing lightly, Armin resting over his shoulder. 

"I tried to change his clothes because the other ones were a bit.. leaked on," he explains, "but he kept crying like crazy each time I tried to button it up." 

"Weird," Levi comments. He hands Armin back to Levi, who holds him an arm’s length away from his body, hands wrapped around his torso as Armin sticks out his tongue and gurgles. “Maybe he just likes the elastic feel of the other one more? Or the buttons are too tight?"

Mike shrugs. “He’s probably just being fussy.”

“I guess,” Levi says. He puts an arm under him and balances him over his shoulder, turning to Mike, a stone lodged in his throat as he does. The day outside is bright and warm, only slightly overcast where white puffy clouds drift in front of the sun, and is, by all arguments, objectively beautiful. Mike seems to sense his discomfort though, and turns to face him.

“What’s up?” he asks, and Levi thinks he might straight-up cry on the spot, the stone getting bigger with each passing moment. He looks down to preserve any sense of pride he’s got left.

“What am I doing _wrong?_ ” he chokes out. 

Mike blinks back at him. It’s slow, seemingly understanding, and he shrugs. The breeze ruffles its way through his hair as he clears his throat.

“Y’know,” he says, “our kid wouldn’t even talk to me until she was three,” and Levi’s caught off-guard, staring back up at him again, confused. He hadn’t known that.

“Nanaba, -- hell, her whole _family_ was talking to Jamie before I was,” he says, and he sniffs. “She’d talk if someone else was around, sure, but I think the first few sentences that were specifically for me were three or four weeks before her birthday, when we were playing with some block-y type toys.”

“So?” Levi says. He gets the relevance, but not the point.

Mike sighs, and Levi feels Armin pulling at the back of his hair gently. “Sometimes, a kid will latch onto one parent or another at a time. It’s not because they’ll never like you, it’s just ‘cause kids need different kinds of anchors. Erwin might just be more appealing because he’s probably the ‘ _good cop’_ right now, and these three are coming out of a pretty hard stretch, right?” he asks.

Levi nods. “Yeah. I mean, I guess.” 

Mike’s not wrong, it’s true he’s generally been harsher than Erwin, to say the least. But that’s just kind of what their relationship has _always_ been like, even before; Erwin has always been more easygoing, and Levi -- Levi often feels a lot like he’s suffocating. He appreciates Erwin mostly because he needs someone who can remind him to lay off a bit.

“So he’s more appealing right now. But it’s not gonna be like that forever, especially when school starts up, and as they get older,” Mike says. “This little guy sure doesn’t seem to mind you so much, for starters,” he adds, grinning and reaching over to pat Armin on the head.

“I guess,” Levi repeats hollowly.

“Give it time.” A cloud passes over the sun, and there’s a shriek of laughter from the trampoline as Eren falls over, bouncing back up as he hits the meshing. Mike rubs his nose deftly. “I know that’s probably what everyone’s telling you, right now, but it’s really all you can do either way.”

Levi doesn’t answer, just stares at the four of them bouncing around in the yard, Hanji yelling a pseudo-war cry as she sends Erwin flying into the wall of netting. There’s still a boulder in the pit of his stomach, but it’s just a little bit easier to carry than it had been before.

* * *

The end of summer rolls around faster than Levi expects, and they’re a month and a half through the three month period when it comes time to enroll them in school. 

They find a nanny for Armin; that part had been easy enough. The guy they hire is a tall, nontalkative type, but the kids all like him, and he seems to do a pretty good job with them, so it’s not really a difficult choice when it comes down between him and the other few that Levi and Erwin had looked at.

The real trouble comes when they need to decide on which primary school to send the other two to, actually.

Levi says they should put them in the private system. It’s indisputably better, in his opinion, and has exponentially lower rates of bullying. Erwin shrugs and says public is a lot cheaper, and does it really matter so much if it’s just for elementary school? In the end, Erwin caves pretty easily though, and it boils down to two different open houses that they both take time off work to attend.

The first one is boring, in all the right ways. He’s pretty pleased with the layout, and they do a good job of pumping their school up. There’s two gyms, and a skating rink. Levi’s optimistic. Erwin flinches at the price tag.

The other one is all-boys, which is already a little off-putting to him, since Mikasa would need to be placed in a different school. But it’s cheaper and Erwin seems to like it more, and Levi’s not totally opposed either, until they both hear one of the other prospective parents muttering something about ‘lifestyle choices.’ It puts them off so badly that it’s not even a question they won’t be enrolling, after that.

“I mean, who even _talks_ like that nowadays?” Erwin asks him, later that night, the moon shining outside. Mikasa fell asleep on the couch watching cartoons an hour ago, and Eren is dozing off at the kitchen table as they speak. Levi’s got Armin in a highchair, sucking on a bottle of formula as he sits beside them both. 

“You’re letting this _really_ bother you that much?” he asks idly, his eyes half-lidded and tired. He turns to look at Eren. “Shouldn’t you be in bed, kiddo?”

Eren sticks out his tongue at him, and Levi sighs.

“Fine, fall asleep in the chair,” he groans into his arm. “I give up.”

“ _Yes,_ it bothers me,” Erwin says. He’s pacing the kitchen, back and forth between the counter and the fridge.

“Alright,” Levi says, “I’ll play into it. Why’s it bothering you so much?” he asks monotonously.

“Because if _parents_ talk like that,” Erwin says, tone grave as his eyes shift subtly to Eren, “ _kids_ might talk like that.” They’ve never really had to have the whole ‘two dads’ conversation with them, not yet at least, but at the same time, Levi knows he’s right. It’s gonna come up eventually, and probably sooner rather than later.

“Which is why Eren’s not gonna go there,” he replies smoothly. Erwin doesn’t seem satisfied with that as an answer, his eyebrow twitching upwards in a look that just reads _seriously?_

Eren looks up from the tabletop and grumbles sleepily. “Go where?”

Levi places a hand on his head and gets the tongue-treatment again. “Hey, put that away before I need to put it away for you,” Levi warns, his voice fake-stern as he does, and Eren giggles. That alone is enough to make Levi crack, trying desperately to keep a straight face, and failing fantastically as his lips curve into a smile too.

Maybe it’s only been a month and a half, but he can feel himself adjusting to this new normal. Sure, the waking up in the middle of the night, the screaming, the fights over things that don’t fucking matter at the grocery store -- _no, Eren, put that_ back _!_ They still kind of suck, but it’s getting easier. He even managed to control a temper tantrum the other day, _without_ having to call in Erwin. It’s all small victories, but they’re victories nonetheless.

And Eren’s been taking it pretty well too, to be honest. Sometimes, he or Mikasa will stop and hug Levi in the halls as they dart past. Levi has no clue what that’s all about, but he fucking _loves_ when it happens.

“We’re talking about your school,” Levi explains, poking his tongue, and it disappears back into Eren’s mouth as he groans.

“I don’t _wanna_ go to school,” he says. Erwin laughs under his breath.

“That’s my kid.”

Levi shoots him a dirty look, before refocusing on Eren. “You’re starting in a few weeks,” he replies, redirecting the comment, rather than answering it, “so you better get used to going to bed a little earlier.”

Eren huffs, and turns to make big, puppy dog eyes at Erwin instead. “Do I _have_ to go to bed?” he whines. Erwin looks back at Levi, Levi stares at him, and --

“Don’t you _dare --_ ”

“Half an hour of TV, okay? Then bed,” Erwin says, and Eren’s immediately awake again, jumping up from the counter to runs across the room and hug him.

“Thanks, papa!” he says, and darts off to the living room. 

Levi, on the other hand, is kind of pissed, at best. 

“What the _fuck?”_ he spits, careful not to be too loud.

“ _Levi!_ The _baby!_ ” Erwin scolds, and rushes over to cover Armin’s ears dramatically. “He’s right at the start of his language processing stage! Do you want him saying ‘ _fuck_ ’ as his first word? _”_

He’s messing around, and Levi knows it, even when Erwin’s trying to put up his most believable poker face.

Levi rolls his eyes. “You’re too easy to sway, you know,” he says, leaning over to kiss him. He can feel Erwin humming against his lips in muted agreement, and pulls back, adding, “They’re gonna start asking you every time I say no to something now.”

“I know,” Erwin says. His eyes are practically sparkling as he leans in closer. “But, do you know what we got tonight?” he asks, grinning.

“What?”

“We got a _‘papa’!”_ he whispers excitedly, right next to his face, and then pulls back with a silently mouthed _woo!,_ his hands pumping into the air, and Levi -- Levi just does his best to smile back. He’d heard it too -- had been _hoping_ Erwin hadn’t, actually, -- his gut knitting itself into guilty little knots as the word rings around his head. He _knows_ he should be happy. He wants to be happy.

“Great,” he says, looking down to hide the grimace. “That’s great. I’m happy for you.” The lie rolls off his tongue easily enough.

But the way Erwin freezes immediately tells him that he realizes what's wrong. His hands drop back to his sides, and he lifts Levi’s head, presses their foreheads together and says, “Sorry."

"It's ok. I know that wasn't to make me feel bad or anything." That part is true, at least, he thinks.

"It’ll come for you too. It’s just time, right?”

“Right,” Levi repeats. He almost says something about Erwin undermining him, almost gets upset about the TV thing, but thinks better of it. Erwin hadn’t _meant_ for his authority to dig into Levi’s, -- he _knows_ he hadn’t meant that, -- but the action still has an underhanded feeling to it.

Armin takes the bottle and throws it at the floor. The cap flies off the top of it, drops of formula spattering onto the tile. Levi groans.

“I’ll get it,” Erwin offers, and Levi shakes his head.

“It’s fine. Go watch cartoons with the kids, make sure they brush their teeth and are in bed on time.” He gets up, legs dragging as he makes his way to the sink, and Erwin stops him.

“Levi, you’re exhausted.”

He’s right, Levi _is_ exhausted, but -- the droop of Erwin’s shoulders, the perpetual notch between his brow, the fine lines of grey in his beard when he forgets to shave for more than a day or two -- and it’s _real_ grey now, not just Levi fucking around with him, -- that Levi’s not sure Erwin himself has noticed. They're both reaching the point where _old man_ is less of an inside joke, and more a description.

“Old man,” he houghs back anyways, crinkling his nose. He kisses him again, and this time it’s softer, Erwin relaxing against him as he leans in. 

“We’re both exhausted. Go watch TV.”

Erwin sighs in resignation, and straightens, pausing at the door to look back at Levi just once over his shoulder.

“Thanks,” he says. 

Levi shrugs. “It’s no problem.”

Erwin disappears and Levi grabs the sponge out of the sink, mopping the mess of the floor while Armin sputters in his chair contentedly. He’s debating preparing another bottle as he squeezes it over the drain and throws it back into the basin, turning to look at Armin as he does.

His hands probably smell like baby formula now, he thinks to no one in particular. The baby stares back, slapping his palms against the hard plastic of the highchair, blows a long raspberry at him while Levi rests on the counter less than a foot away.

“You’re a little shit disturber, you know that?” he asks, and leans in with his face. Armin reaches for his nose, the four pudgy fingers of his left hand grasping at its tip, and Levi sighs dejectedly, too tired to push them away. In a few days, he’ll be seven months old, he registers numbly.

“Daddada,” Armin babbles, and Levi’s eyes fly open in surprise.

“Holy fuck,” he says aloud, and claps his hand over his mouth instinctively. Maybe Erwin had had a point about the language thing, after all.

Armin grabs his nose with his other hand, cupping the tip of it before making another happy baby noise and squeaking at him, and Levi grins.

Tonight might be okay, after all, he thinks.

* * *

School turns out to be more complicated than previously assumed.

Mikasa’s alright, since she’s just starting out. She’s quiet, her teachers say at their first meeting a little under a month in, but she makes friends just fine and keeps up with the other kindergarteners. Eren, on the other hand, is more trouble.

At first, there are seemingly no issues. He’s friendly, and, beyond the regular squabbles with his peers for his age, he seems to be doing alright. But all of his teachers report the same disturbing trend; Eren’s mental aptitude is far lower than all his classmates. There should have been an assessment test, Levi points out. Why hadn't there been an assessment test? The school says that the adoption agency had given them a rough estimate of what grade they should start him in. A consultation with the adoption agency leads to them admitting his schooling may not have been up to par with his mother. Levi wants to scream. 

The academic administrators reach out to Levi and Erwin about it, and he gets bumped down a grade. It’s no big deal, really, Levi thinks, but Erwin’s pretty torn up.

"Don't you fucking talk to him about it," he tells Erwin in the car on the way home, tells him it’s probably better to leave well enough alone and let the kid cope. Erwin grumbles something about trying harder, and he _means_ well, just -- he’s upset, Levi reminds himself. He’s prone to bad decision making when he’s upset.

He looks out the window of the glass kitchen sliding doors a week before the agent is set to come back for their three month visitation, leaves on the trees in the garden fading into yellows and browns. Erwin and Eren sitting on the picnic table, their backs to him as they talk, and Levi -- again, it’s partially jealousy that twangs up in his chest, and partially frustration at how absolutely _boneheaded_ Erwin Smith can be sometimes. Mikasa’s humming to herself on the floor, a puzzle laid out in front of her, and he put Armin down for a nap twenty minutes ago. He glances down at her, careful to make sure she doesn’t notice.

He can probably take five minutes to investigate, he thinks.

He walks out into the yard after them, carefully making his way down the steps of the deck and creeping up behind them, and he hears Eren talking about school, and he _knew_ this would happen if he left Erwin alone for _two_ fucking minutes --

“ _Erwin!”_ he says, a little more accusatory than intended, and Erwin jumps two feet into the air.

“Oh my _god,_ ” he gasps back, clutching his chest. “You just about gave me a _heart attack._ ” He breathes in roughly, and blinks twice. “What’s up?”

Levi’s eyes narrow slightly, and Erwin gulps. “I just wanted to ask if you happened to remember the favour I asked you to take care of last week,” he says. It _sounds_ calm enough, but there’s a well concealed undertone of _venom_ in it, until --

“Eren asked me if I could talk to him about school for a moment,” Erwin explains. The anger drains straight out of Levi when he sees his husband’s troubled expression, and suddenly he understands that this isn’t about Erwin lecturing him over grades. 

He turns back to Eren and asks, gently, “Is it ok if Levi sits with us, too?”

Eren sniffs and nods, and Levi seats himself, hands awkwardly folded between his knees as he sits cross-legged on the table next to him.

“Hey,” he offers weakly, trying to find the most natural way to put his arm around Eren. “What’s gotten into you?”

Eren gulps and immediately leans over, lying down so his head is in Levi’s lap, and some hidden instinct inside of him kicks in, petting Eren’s hair as he sniffles, massaging his back gently.

“Someone at school has been saying mean things to him,” Erwin explains. “About why he got moved down a grade,” he adds, and places his own hand over Levi’s on Eren’s back.

“I’m not _stupid_ ,” Eren whimpers, his nose pressed into the meat of Levi’s thigh. There’s snot and tears streaked on his pants where his face digs in, and surprisingly, Levi finds he doesn’t really mind it. “Right?”

“Because you got moved down?” Levi asks. He snorts. “Of course not. I got moved down a grade,” he says, and Eren looks up at him.

“Really?” Eren asks.

“ _Really?”_ Erwin repeats, frowning, and Levi glares at him to be quiet.

“Oh yeah,” he says. “I completely failed out of grade four. Technically two grades, if you count redoing a year in medical school.”

Eren sniffles again and says, “He told me it was _because_ of you.” He pauses, and something in Levi breaks a little, because he knows exactly where this was going. “That I was _stupid_ and _dumb_ because I wasn’t normal, because I don’t have just one dad. Maybe you’re just _stupid,_ too.”

“ _Eren_ \-- !“ Erwin starts, but Eren suddenly sits up and pushes himself off of the table.

“I _hate_ you! I hate you _both!_ I wanna just be _normal_. I want my _mom._ ” he shouts, and runs into the house, tears still streaked across his face as he does. 

The exchange leaves Levi more shaken than he’d care to admit, sitting in shock on the table as Erwin shakes his head, and exhales loudly. 

“It was going better before, you know. He’ll be fine, once he cools off --”

And then, the whatever it was in his chest that had broken a little -- Levi feels it snap entirely.

“Of _course,_ of fucking _course_ it was, before I came out. You just had it _all_ under control, didn’t you?” he spits, his voice rising, and he’s dully aware that Eren’s still probably watching from the kitchen window, but something in him also doesn’t care. “You’re just, Mr. _Perfect_ with the kids, all the time, and I’m stuck being the bad guy! _Every_ time!” he shouts.

Erwin flinches backwards, surprised. “That’s not what I meant --” he says. “I -- Levi, look, we’re both under stress right now.”

“I’m not! I’m _fine!”_ he shouts. “This is all _fine!”_ The million different little things he had put aside suddenly come bubbling to the surface, the times Armin has screamed them both awake, the fights, the complaining, the endless negotiations where Erwin would step in and just give them absolutely free reign, even when Levi had spent the last half hour trying to reign them in, and it’s just _enough._

“Levi," he begs, "I’m sorry you feel that way but we _need_ to stick together right now.” His face is beginning to crack around the edges, where Levi can see it starting to wrinkle, where it’s been starting for years, the crow’s feet under his eyes deepening into lines that hadn’t been there before, and -- his throat clenches shut, uncomfortably, as he realizes that most of what he's mad about isn't Erwin's fault at all -- suddenly he’s kicking himself for yelling in the first place. He'd forgotten somewhere along the lines that all of the things he's trying to navigate, Erwin is also navigating himself.

He inhales roughly, breath a stuttering gasp in his throat, and the tears flow down his face like a wave settling on a shore, rolling over him in one fell swoop.

“I’m so _tired_ of this shit,” he says, collapsing back onto the bench, and Erwin wraps his arms around him, squeezing tight. “It’s been the same, absolute, _shit_ . All our lives.” The words feel like they’re being pulled from his throat by a string, wrapped tight around his tongue, and yet he can’t stop them. “Fuck, _I_ want to be normal.”

“I know.” Erwin’s arms squeeze tighter, and Levi’s vaguely aware that he’s crying too, wet spots falling onto his hair.

“On the upside,” Erwin points out, “he _did_ say he has two dads.”

Levi finds himself, to his own surprise, somehow managing to laugh bitterly at the comment.

* * *

“Alright,” Erwin says, stepping into the kitchen. They'd talked outside for about ten minutes, and Levi thinks it's probably helped a little, feels a little bit of the weight over his chest dissipate having said what he did.

Eren is scribbling on a paper in the corner, his cheeks puffed out angrily. The drawing is… actually pretty hilarious, when Levi gets a closer look, all shades of orange and red and two big (presumably, him and Erwin) stick figures stand in the centre, comically gigantic frowns on their faces,

“Eren?” Erwin asks, and Eren doesn’t answer. “I know you can hear me.” He settles next to him in the chair, and Eren only pouts harder.

“Go _away_ ,” he huffs. Levi sits on his other side. 

“Don’t talk to me or your dad like that,” Erwin scolds him.

Levi reaches out a hand to part his hair, brushing it behind his ears. “You okay, kiddo?” he asks gently, and Eren shakes his head, tearing up again. Levi pretty much wants to cry again at this point too, so he can sort of get why.

“How can I make you believe that that boy at school was wrong about you?” he asks, and Eren shrugs. “Would it help if he apologized?” 

Eren thinks about it for a second, and then shakes his head. “I just wanna have him leave me alone,” he sighs, the _scrit-scrat_ of his pencil on the paper the only noise in the room. 

“Okay,” Levi says. “We can probably do that.” Typically, he’d guess that just means calling the school’s front desk and filing a complaint, requesting for additional surveillance when the two would be exposed to each other, like at breaks or during lunch. “Anything else?”

Eren pauses, cocking his head to the side, and says, “Can I have some juice?”

“Sure,” and Levi makes to stand up, before Erwin catches him by the sleeve of his shirt.

“Wait a second,” he instructs, pulling him back down. “Eren, you were _very_ rude just now, when we were outside. Why were you mean to us like that?”

Eren tucks his chin in and says nothing.

“We’re nice to you, right?” Erwin asks, and he nods. “We don’t make fun of you or call you names. So why were you mean to us?” he prods. Eren seems to not want to answer, the words getting caught in the necking of his shirt.

“What?”

“I don’t wanna be weird,” he mumbles again, loud enough this time that they can hear him. “Not like he says _you_ are.”

“Do _you_ think we’re weird too?” Erwin asks, and he shakes his head in a little _no_ motion. “Then why does it matter?”

He still doesn’t give a proper answer, and Erwin frowns. “It’s ok to be upset, but you shouldn’t take it out on people you love, alright? And because you did, you’re not gonna be allowed any TV today or tomorrow.”

Surprisingly, there’s no kicking or screaming about it, just another dull nod as he stares down at his drawing on the counter.

There's a beat, and then; “Is he gonna leave me alone?” he asks, eyes wide as he stares up.

Levi exhales slowly, him and Erwin glancing at each other before going back to trying to comfort their son, and -- something about the moment just clicks right then and there. That he’s _their_ son, and that _they_ were doing the extraordinarily messy and difficult job of raising him, and the idea just fits perfectly into place in Levi's brain. Had it ever not been like this, he wonders?

“Of course,” Levi says. “Just tell us his name, and I’ll call the school tomorrow morning, okay?”

Eren gulps, and there’s a little grin that pokes its way through the tears. “Okay.”

There’s a moment where they sit, the three of them close together, and Mikasa stares up from the floor, before Erwin holds out a hand to invite her in too. She squeals, and charges in to wrap her arms around her brother, Armin screaming as he wakes up in the other room.

“ _Shit,_ ” Erwin grunts, and snaps his jaw closed. “I mean -- _fuck_ \-- I mean --" and he glances down at Mikasa, screwing up his face.

"Oh, just, _whatever,_ ” he says, and stands up urgently. “I’ll be right back,” he stammers, stumbling out of the room, his heel catching with a thud on the doorframe and followed by more loud swearing down the hallway. 

“What’s a ‘shit’?” Mikasa asks innocently, and Levi pats her head.

“You’ll find out when you’re older,” he says, laughing.

* * *

He supposes, in the end, Mike and Moblit and Hanji had been right about it all.

They figure out which set of parents had been responsible for Eren’s meltdown at the second set of parent-teacher interviews, the man mumbling something about _‘fuckin faggots,’_ to his wife as they had crossed pathes in the hallway.

“Not here,” Erwin had said, grabbing Levi by the arm as he’d turned on his heel and prepared to charge after them. “Not right now.”

Levi grumbles, but he listens, eventually. He’s gradually learning there are better ways to take care of problems like that, so they wait until they bump into them again in the parking lot later that night to introduce themselves, both couples acting friendly enough through gritted teeth, and when they finally climb into Erwin’s burnt-out Chevrolet, Levi jots down their names on a McDonald’s napkin to call in about later. 

“God, I fucking love you,” Erwin mumbles to him, holding the napkin up to look at it, and Levi laughs.

“I know.”

They start looking into a bigger residence in mid-January, when Armin first starts teetering his way around the house, baby fat giving way ever so slightly to the growth spurt of toddler-hood. He still doesn’t use complete sentences, but he speaks in broken words and responds to direct requests, like _come here,_ or -- _Armin,_ no _!_ _Put that down!_ Levi asks one of his coworkers about a plastic surgeon recommendation, eventually, but it’s only ever a brief discussion before he and Erwin both agree that it’s probably something Armin should decide himself, once he’s a little older. After all, whether it gets done now or later, the consultant had said that the end result wouldn’t be very different.

By time late spring rolls around again, he’s pretty confident they’re doing an alright job, at worst. The official adoption forms were signed months ago, so it’s too late even if they _were_ having second thoughts about it, he thinks to himself, mostly jokingly. There’s still days where there are _incidents_ , of course, he thinks, like the time Eren knocks the TV off its stand in the den, or Mikasa pukes on their new duvet at 2AM. But, for the most part, things have eased their way back into the gentle sway of normalcy.

Most of the boxes are already packed into the truck outside when Hanji rings the doorbell for their pre-moving dinner party, a tray of -- _something_ in her hands. It’s thick, and sticky, and _probably_ dessert, Levi hopes, but with Hanji, it was always hard to tell.

“I made rice pudding!” she shouts excitedly, and something in his brain goes _ah._ Yeah, that could be it.

Jack and Maria shoot out from behind her, the older tacking Mikasa into the floor and demanding, “Wanna come play outside with me?” Her eyes are bright and overeager, and Mikasa doesn’t hesitate with her response.

“Can we, dad?” she asks, looking up at Levi, giving him the biggest, cutest, most pleading gaze that she can muster up and -- he wasn’t going to say no either way, but with that face, it would have been _illegal_. “ _Please,_ please please?”

“Alright,” he laughs, and the two girls look at each other gleefully before tumbling into the kitchen, Mikasa pulling on her shoes as she runs out the door. Maria teeters off behind them, and Hanji drops the rice pudding onto the piano bench and snatches her up before she gets too far.

“Not you,” she laughs. “You’d probably fall down the steps.”

“Wash your hands when you come back in!” he shouts after the girls, sighing softly. He looks back at Hanji. “They must keep you busy.”

“They do,” Moblit grumbles, wheeling his way past them, and Hanji laughs again. “I’ll be on the deck, if anyone cares.”

Levi’s eyebrows dig together in confusion and Hanji waves her hand, bouncing Maria on her hip as she does.

“Ignore him,” she says. “He had a long day with Jack before we got here. But, yeah, they keep us on our toes,” she grins, booping her youngest on the nose. She walks in and Levi follows, making her way to Erwin and pecking him on the cheek from over his shoulder. 

Levi’s jaw flops open in surprise, and she bats his hand away as he reaches at her.

"The fu -- the _hell,_ Zoe?"

“The apron said to kiss the chef!” she exclaims, and Levi finds himself regretting having _bought_ the stupid novelty item. 

He grumbles, letting go of her arm. “Only you would take an apron literally.”

“Good to see you, too,” Erwin beams. He leans backwards and shouts, “ _Eren!_ Come say hi to your aunt!”

Levi squawks indignantly, lunging forwards to cover his mouth, but it's too late.

“Erwin! The _baby!”_ he hisses, and Erwin’s eyes go comically wide. 

“Oh,” he says. There's a tense moment where they both listen carefully, at first for the quiet, garbled blubbering, and then outright crying. “Shit. I’ll get that,” he says, switching the burner off and moving the pan before disappearing out the door.

“Hey,” Mike says, appearing in the kitchen. Nanaba’s walking slightly after him, Jamie hiding behind her legs. “We let ourselves in, since the door was open. Closed it behind since I don't think we're expecting anyone else,” he grins, eyes soft around the corners.

“Hey, Aunt Zoe,” Eren grumbles, walking past them into the kitchen as well. His feet drag on the tiles as he does. “Hey Uncle Mike, Aunt Nanaba,” he adds. Hanji squeals excitedly, handing Maria off to Mike abruptly so she can lift Eren up.

“Hey you!” she says, spinning him around, and Eren laughs, suddenly much more energetic. His legs fly in a circle before she has to put him down again, groaning something about _god he’s gotten heavier, hasn’t he,_ and Levi smirks, just a little, as Eren darts around her, bombarding her with questions.

“Are you staying for dinner too? Where'd papa go? Is Jack here too --?"

"Go outside and play with them,” Levi suggests, and Eren nods enthusiastically. He looks back at Jamie, still crouched behind her mother’s legs, and tilts his head.

“You gonna come?” Eren asks.

Jamie looks up at Mike, and Mike nods. Levi thinks back to what he’d told him almost a year ago now, and there’s a warm feeling in his chest as he watches Mike’s daughter slowly detach from her mother, inching forwards cautiously before Eren grabs her and drags her behind him by the hand. Mike laughs.

“That kid’s high energy with everyone, isn’t he?” he asks. He thumps Levi on the back, a little _oof_ escaping his lungs from the weight of it.

"Yeah," Levi says slowly.

Mike watches them, and, belatedly, adds, “You did good, Ackerman.”

Surprisingly, Levi thinks, the spring wind still just cold enough to still make him shiver, the four kids bouncing and tumbling around on the trampoline as Erwin walks back in, Armin tucked into the crook of his elbow, -- surprisingly, he thinks he actually can believe him. He’s proud of the family they’ve managed to create, together.

Erwin wraps his free arm around him, and the knot of worry and inadequacy and flat-out _doubt_ that he’s been carrying for months in his chest finally settles, his lips twitching into a tiny, satisfied smile as he hums softly.

“I know,” he says, smiling.

**Author's Note:**

> believe it or not i have no knowledge of how children work
> 
> anyways this took me a long time two write, but uhh  
> yeah no that's all, im probably gonna make this into a miniseries at some point of them being old weirdos together, but that's all.  
> hope u like and i was too tired to proofread the whole thing, so lmk if you spotted a spelling error somewhere.  
> ps i imagine eren sounds like john mulaney here


End file.
